Christmas at Chenonceau A REIGN FRANCIS AND MARY AFTER LIFE FIC
by mercia12591
Summary: It is Christmas in the after life and Mary is on a mission. Sucky summary, I know. Just read it...


**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Disclaimer **You all know the drill, I own nothing, I'm just borrowing these characters for a while...

**Rating **M, to be safe.

**Christmas at Chenonceau**

**A REIGN FRANCIS ANDMARY AFTER LIFEFIC**

Vanilla. He smelled vanilla. With a touch of lavender. Francis' eyes slid open, slowly, to take in the still darkness that flooded the bedroom with pre-dawn silence. Another deep breath brought the same soft scent to his nose and he realized that, at some point during the night, Mary had turned; he was now arched along the curve of her back, his face buried in the long curls at her nape. Breathing in, once more, he moved, slightly, tightening his arms about her, and realized just exactly how close he was nestled against his sleeping wife. Said wife shifted, a little, and slept on, oblivious to her husband's hissing as she wriggled against him. Francis gently gathered the tail of hair, moving it to the side and nuzzled the back of her neck while his hand began wandering over her breast. Mary made a small noise in her throat and squirmed when Francis slid one of his legs between hers to nestle there, but still slept.

By the time she began to filter up through the layers of sleep, Francis's lips were locked against the juncture of her throat and jaw, drawing there, as his fingers splayed down over her belly to tangle in the curls between her legs. Her whimper was one of both surprise and pleasure when she realized what he was doing and, she sighed blissfully as he stroked her a few times more before slipping a finger inside her, gently, causing her breath to catch in her throat and a trembling hand to rest on his arm, lightly.

Five hundred years and a lifetime behind them and he could still seduce her with just a look, a touch. Mary had come to accept that the hunger, the need she felt for her husband would never be satisfied…it was as eternal as their bond and just as strong…

Continuing his ministrations, Francis began to whisper, softly, in her ear between kisses and nibbles, as he alternated caressing her breasts and between her legs. He reminded her, in low sensual tones, how lovely she was, how beautiful and sexy and how he loved the fact that he'd been her first, and that he was the only one who ever saw this side of her.

After several moments, and good number of gasps, he tested her readiness, again. Satisfied that she was as prepared as she could be, he was already well in position with his leg firmly between hers, and all he had to do was push his hips forward to bury himself within her, completely.

Mary couldn't help the whimper that escaped her lips as she felt him thrust into her, firmly, and she caught the pillow tightly in her fist, her other hand gripping the bedclothes, partially to steady herself. She gasped, softly, when he began rocking his hips against her.

_Nothing…nothing this good…nothing else even exists… _She thought through a haze of pleasure.

Francis deliberately kept the pace slow as continued to rock with her, carefully, teasing a tight nipple with just the barest brush of his fingertips and was rewarded by soft, throaty moan. It was only minutes later when he felt her body go rigid before he felt her muscles flutter around him and she arched back against him, unconsciously. He smirked at her throat, thrusting hard, twice, to let the ripples of her orgasm bring about his own, and he moaned, low, as it hit him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hip.

Mary felt the warmth of his seed inside her; felt him clutch her against him and wondered if he'd be this pleased with himself once he learned what she'd done?

"You haven't told him yet?" Lola's question held a scolding tone as she and Mary glided together down the halls of the chateau. "You said you would tell him this morning, what happened?"

"I got distracted…" Mary murmured.

"By what pray tell?" Lola demanded. After all the matter at hand was becoming rather pressing.

Mary remained silent.

"I imagine it was the same thing that distracts my dear sister every morning," Bash's voice entered the conversation as he came up behind them, his arms laden with tinsel and other sparkling yuletide decorations.

Lola flushed as she took his meaning and Sabastian gave the lady in waiting a wicked grin, before turning his attention back to his sister-in-law. "You'll have to tell Francis, sooner rather than later and preferably before her carriage pulls into the court yard…"

"I know," Mary agreed. "I'm going to tell him. I mean how mad can he really be? Its Yuletide and it's been five hundred years…"

Sebastian and Lola made no attempt to answer the purely rhetorical question.

"We are all worrying for nothing," Mary said to no one in particular. "This is going to be good. It will be fun…nothing to worry about."

At the word 'fun' Lola and Sebastian shared a look, both in agreement that Mary was fooling herself. This little surprise the queen had cooked up had the potential to be many things, but 'fun' was hardly one of them.

In fact Bash recalled most vividly what happened the last time Catherine and her son were in a room together. The queen had just died and was very upset that Francis had not been there to meet her.

Catherine was more upset still when she learned that her son had been given dispensation to stay on earth and wait for Mary, she kicked up such a fuss that the fates and the high council agreed to a review of Francis' case.

To say that the Dauphin was not happy at having to re-appear before the high council at such a crucial juncture in Mary's life (her Italian advisor Rizzo had just been murdered in front of her eyes), would be a major understatement and Francis had little patience with his mother's antics and posturing. The Dauphin had been positively incensed when Catherine tried to convince the council that for Francis' own good he needed to be ordered to heaven or detained in purgatory 'until such time as he comes to his senses'.

The council decided in favor of Francis, of course, but Sebastian would never forget the look the Dauphin gave his mother as he prepared to return to Mary's side, leaving Catherine to Purgatory…

"Sebastian," Mary's voice broke through the Viscount's memories. "I've been thinking…maybe if the news came from you Francis might be more…"

"Oh no, no way in hell, Mary," Sebastian said firmly. "I love you like the sister I never had, but there is absolutely no way I'm facing the wrath of Francis and most especially not for the likes of Catherine de Medicini…"

"But…"

"No, this was your plan, your Christmas 'surprise' for Francis, so you're the one that has to tell him."

"I'd hide all his swords first, if I were you," Lola piped up.

"And on that note, I think Lola and I will go deck the halls…" Bash said as he took the Lady in Waiting's hand and pulled her along.

Lola threw her queen an apologetic look and a sheepish grin over her shoulder before skipping after Bash. Mary watched the two of them go with a secret smile. _About time that happened, _she thought happily as she went off in search of Francis.

She found him in his workshop among his swords. He was just putting the final touches on a particularly fine specimen. "This one's beautiful," she murmured and he smiled.

"You think father will like it?"

"He'll love it," she said sincerely.

Henry and Francis have gotten closer over the centuries and Francis was now at the very least on equal footing with Bash in his father's affection. Mary had gotten close to her father-in-law as well and she knew that Henry was proud of all his children, but Francis especially.

"I was thinking we could go riding on the lake this afternoon," he suggested as he sanded the blade a final time."

"That would've been nice," she said, "but I really want to be here to greet our guest…"

"He gave her a small smile. "We have plenty of time," he assured her. "Father only arrives at dusk."

"Yes, but your mother arrives at noon…"

Francis went very still. "My mother…"

"Yes, your mother; as in the woman who carried you for nine months and gave birth to you and who you haven't seen in five hundred years…"

"Let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You invited my mother here for Christmas…"

Mary nodded, forcing a smile.

"Why in the name of all that is holy would you do that?

"I thought it would be a nice surprise…" She gave him her brightest smile, but he looked thoroughly unimpressed. "So, are you surprised?"

"You know a lot of words are coming to mind, but that's not one of them…"

"Overjoyed?" She tried again.

"Hardly," he scoffs.

"Look it's only for a week…"

"A week!"

"She was just released from purgatory," Mary pushed on, "she has nowhere else to go…"

"What about Charles and Madeleine?" He questioned. "Or Henry, or Elizabeth and her husband? That's three places she could go right there."

"Francis…"

"I'm sure she will love the heavenly version of Spain."

"She's your _mother!_" Mary's voice was pleading now. "I know this doesn't make everything right or excuses her actions, nor should it, but I firmly believe that everything she did, she did for love of you…we have that in common, your mother and I."

"You're far too generous with her."

"And you are entirely too hard on her," Mary argued. "She never had an easy life and then to marry a man who belonged heart and soul to another…can we really blame her for clinging to the one solid thing in her life? Nostradamus' prophecies became an addiction precisely because they gave her the illusion of having the one thing she never had…"

"Control." Francis mused.

"Francis, it's Christmas," Mary said with a sweet smile, not feeling in the least bit guilty about going in for the kill once she could sense her husband softening, "it's a time for peace on earth and goodwill towards slightly fanatical, but well-meaning mothers…"

Francis could not help, but smile as he pulled his wife deeper into his embrace. "I'm pretty sure that's not how that particular passage goes, you little minx…"

"Its close enough," she said snippily.

He grinned suddenly. "Very well, but you're breaking the news to my father…"

"Remember you promised to be nice." Mary reminded her husband later that day as they stood with the royal court and watched Queen Catherine's carriage pull up.

"I promised to be civil…"

"If you managed 'nice' I'd be very happy darling…and me being happy I'd want very much to make you happy too…"

"How happy?" Francis asked with keen interest.

Mary smiled and whispered something in her husband's ear. Sebastian could not hear what she promised her husband, but whatever it was placed a goofy grin on his brother's face.

"Awkward…" Bash whispered to Lola who suppressed a giggle.

"Something tells me Catherine is about to have a much better Christmas than she deserves," Lola quipped.

Catherine de Medici had not expected Mary's invitation or the warm welcome she received from her son, of course she suspected Mary's hand in Francis' thawing towards her. It didn't matter what wrought the change though, and Catherine De Medici found herself infinitely grateful towards her daughter-in-law.

With no prophecies of doom hanging over-head, Catherine found herself free and even eager to accept her daughter-in-law's cautious attempts at friendship. Mary made her son happy, truly and completely, seeing that was the final balm needed for her soul to heal completely.

Henry was a bit frosty at first, but even he thawed and by the time the week was over Catherine fancied she and Henry had taken the first steps toward a tentative friendship…

"Mother, am I disturbing you?"

Francis' voice roused Catherine from her reverie. "Of course not," she turned from packing her trunks, giving him a cautious, but bright smile. "Come in, Francis…"

He stepped into the room, eyeing the half packed trunks. "You're missing the banquet," he told her gently.

"I just wanted to get started on this," she told him, "what with the court picnic tomorrow there won't be much time to pack after…"

"About that," Francis said. "Mary and I've talked about it and neither of us have a problem with it if you wanted to stay a few weeks longer…"

Catherine smiled and looked away trying to hide the tears which came to her eyes. "You and Mary are both very generous and I thank you, but I've had an invitation from your sister, Elizabeth…"

**"**Youhave?"

She nodded. "Indeed, and I do look forward to seeing Elizabeth and dear Phillip again…"

"Alright, as you wish," Francis replied, "but I must insist that one of your ladies help with packing the trunk later, right now your presence is requested at the banquet…"

Catherine smiled slightly and put her packing aside for the time being, in favor of accepting her son's arm and allowing him to escort her from her chambers to the banquet hall. "You know son, I don't think I've had a chance to tell you how very much I adore your wife…"

Francis smiled. Though her tone was playful there was no mistaking the sincerity in Catherine's voice.

"Thank you mother," Francis said softly. "Merry Christmas…"

"Merry Christmas, my son…" Catherine replied; her spirit lighter than it had been in centuries.

When she was sure mother and son had passed, Queen Mary stepped out from behind a gilded pillar. A smile playing about her lips, she had not meant to eavesdrop on Francis and his mother. She'd been on the way to Catherine herself when she saw Francis there…

A happy laugh tumbled from her lips. Her husband had his mother back and Catherine had her son…All was as it should be.

All was well…

**The End**


End file.
